Ohana Means Family, Family Means No One Gets Left Behind Or Forgotten
by XxBloodyRosaryxX
Summary: I'm just a 15 year old dog dude living in Walker-World. Did I mention I'm Rick Grimes baby brother? Yeah, well I am. This story is basically about Rick reuniting with his baby brother, A.K. Grimes, and then taking off from there. How I thought the Walking Dead would be like if we added a family member to the group. How come Daryl is the only one with a brother? Please Read!
1. Chapter 1

**I thought I'd take a shot at writing a Walking Dead fanfic…so here goes!**

**I don't own anything, but I wish I owned Daryl Dixon.**

**Warnings: Language**

**Enjoy!**

_**A.K.'S POINT OF VIEW**_

I stared at the picture of my brother, Rick, when he first became a sheriff. He looked like such a dork with the smile and his police officer garb on.

Ahh, the good ole days; when things were normal and not so fucking psychotic.

Then these zombies came and screwed everything up. They took my parents from me, took my girlfriend from me, and took my older brother away from me.

Tears stung the back of my eyes and trickled down my dirt stained, but I quickly dashed them away.

My only consolation: Rick died in a coma before he had to witness all of this, this disaster and death.

The only things I had left were my three dogs, which I picked up along the way.

Shasta, my year old Siberian husky, was my most recent collectable. We found him hiding under a dumpster with a walker snapping at his tail. Quickly disposing the undead flesh addict, I managed to coerce the scared pup out from under his safe haven. Cleaning him up in a creek, I brought him back to my Hummer and laid him down in the back seat with my other two friends-I mean dogs. Shasta is good at sneaking about walkers and retrieving anything I point at. He is the stealthiest of the three pups I have.

My German Shepard, Zepplin, I found huddled in the corner of an alley with a broken paw and a torn ear, which looked to be from a dog fight a while back. Walkers were after me, but when I see an innocent puppy looking up at me with huge brown eyes, I don't turn away from it. I swept him up in my dirty forest green bag which held my ammo and Bowie knife, and scaled up the chain link fence, then hauled ass to my Land Rover Defender, which is what I was driving at the time. I nursed him back to health and within a few weeks, he was up and about chasing squirrels, getting struck by porcupines, and sprayed by skunks. He's my go-to dog when we all need something to eat. He's especially good at catching squirrels and fish. He's about a year and a half old by now.

Now we come to my Golden Retriever, who I've had for a year. He is older than Zepplin by a half a year and older than Shasta by a full year, making him two years old. I got him from a breeder a month before shit hit the fan. His name is Winchester and he if the most amazing dog in the world! I remember the first time I was on my own in the world and a huge group of zombies came out of nowhere. I panicked and climbed into a tree and then bawled my eyes out. It didn't occur to me that I had left Winchester down there until I saw him creep up behind the herd of walkers huddled around the tree I scurried up and let out a long howl and barked at them. The only thoughts racing through my head was "get out of here you stupid dog!" and "Winchester if you leave me I will kill you so hard!" did they make sense? No! You want to know why? Because when someone has brain diseased bastards with a serious case of the munchies under you snapping their teeth at your ankles, you don't really care if shit makes sense or not! All I remember is Winchester running as fast as he could with ten or so walkers on his heels leading all of them away from me. After staying up in the tree for at least a half an hour, I shakily got down and dropped to my knees, weeping over the thoughts of my poor doggy dying for me. Dragging myself back to camp, I laid down on his makeshift dog bed in the back of my black Ford Explorer (can you tell that I've changed cars a lot?) and drifted off into a nightmare filled dream, not even bothering to close the door; at that point, let the walkers take me. I woke the next morning to a warm, fuzzy being next to me licking my face. Winchester! I remember hugging him and kissing him and smothering him with my body until he whimpered because he couldn't breathe. My amazingly amazing dog had lead the walkers away, scattered them, and then ran back to his master: me! I know that if people ever heard this story, they wouldn't believe it, but I know it was true! I was there. And I lived it. This dog saved my life.

Shasta yipped impatiently and let out a low growl.

Shaking my head, I looked up from the picture of my long dead family, and quit my reminiscing.

Three walkers were limping over to the passenger window where Shasta sat with his teeth bared and fur raised. He growled at them lowly, knowing that if he barked, he would be in trouble with me for making too much noise. Good boy.

Turning the key, I started the shiny black Hummer I had kept since finding Shasta, and drove off.

We needed more food, water, medicine, clothes, and I was thinking about getting all the dogs supplies too. Like collars, leashes, toys because they always want me to play with them when I'm sleeping, and maybe even dog clothes. It's getting colder here and if my dogs get sick…I just can't afford that right now.

I drove non-stop for another two to three hours before noticing a shopping center with a Vons and a Petco…and a gas station!

"Smell any walker, Zepplin?" I asked. He didn't seem to care about anything else except getting out of the car and running around.

Making sure that no walkers were mingling around, I opened the door and stepped out; Winchester hopping out first, then Shasta, and then Zepplin kind of…fell out.

Aye, this dog!

Making going into Petco a quick mission, I managed to get new collars for the dogs, a few bags of dog food, new leashes, and new choke-chains and camping chains. Dog clothes would have to wait.

Passing by the dog hotel, I saw a walker, a girl with blonde hair, struggling to get into a locked cage with a dead Beagle in it. I had to look away and hurry out of there.

After piling the supplies into the trunk and then walking to Vons, I grabbed a shopping cart and just starting piling nonperishable foods into the cart. Turning onto the water isle, I hear a familiar moaning and shuffling, and looked down at Winchester, Shasta, and Zepplin, who looked back up at me. I did a "slitting your throat" motion with my hand and they slouched and sat down sadly.

I removed my gun from the same forest green bag I had when I found Zep, and turned the corner sharply, shooting the walker in the head.

That was easy enough.

We walked out of the store with enough food to last me another month, enough water for…well water goes fast, a bunch of shampoo, conditioner, and soap to last me a while, and even toilet paper.

Okay, so what if I'm a 15 year old guy with hair that goes down to the middle of his back? In Walker-World, I have no one to impress! No one to cut my hair! And no one to even _tell_ me to cut it!

So who cares?

And, yes, I am 15 and I drive. I mean… do or die out here…and I'm in no danger of being arrested,

Filling up on gas and taking two of those bottles of gasoline I managed to stuff in the back of my very crowded car, we jumped into the car and began driving to the next secluded place I deemed safe to make camp for the night.

The necessities filled the trunk to the brim it felt like. I need to start thinking about my next car. Maybe a truck? I could probably find a trailer in someone's driveway or find a trailer in a trailer park and then it could be called home sweet home.

I drove for a solid four hours until I just couldn't keep my eyes open, and then pulled into a parking lot of a Motel 6. If I can't sleep in the motel, then I guess I'll sleep outside of it.

Before I dozed off, I packed a huge hiking backpack with food, water, ammo, a few knives, a flashlight, batteries, matches, and the choke-chains and camping chains.

Call me paranoid, but I always keep a bag like that filled with provisions so that if anything happens and I have to ditch the Hummer, I still have the supplies I need to survive.

In addition to that, I have my dogs on a leash made for walking two dogs (I just added a third chain for Shasta) that I hook on my belt so that I don't lose them.

It reminds me of Lilo from Lilo and Stitch: Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind. Or forgotten.

These three dogs were my family, and I wasn't about to lose them.

I reclined the driver's seat and watched as Zepplin curled up behind the passenger seat, Winchester rubbed himself into the passenger seat and then went limp resulting in him sleeping in a heap, and then Shasta nestled down under the little bridge I made with my reclined seat and the seat behind me, and then proceeded to flip onto his back and begin snoring.

"You three are so weird!" I laughed and rolled onto my stomach and pressing my face into the leather seat, "But I love you. Good night guys."

WALKING DEAD-WALKING DEAD-WALKING DEAD-

Morning came too soon for me.

I yawned and rolled onto my back, ignoring the cracking I heard and felt.

Zeppelin whined and put the pad of his paw on the window.

"Wanna go you boys?" they all wagged their tails, "Yeah, I have to pee, too. And eat!"

The four of us hobbled out of the Hummer and stretched. Shasta and Chester immediately began to play-wrestle with each other while Zepplin rolled around the asphalt and sneezed.

I took care of personal business and then opened the trunk, grabbed their bowls and scooped food into them, and then grabbed a couple of granola bars and a bottle of water. After drinking a little less than half, I threw it into the back seat and grabbed a few more bottles to pour into the now empty dog bowls.

Once they finished eating, Shasta jumped into the back and grabbed a ball.

"You wanna play?" I asked and threw the ball into the air and caught it again.

I threw the ball, making sure it was within 20 feet, and watched as they fought over who got to bring it back to me.

Playing fetch lasted for about ten minutes.

The next time I threw the slobbery ball, they raced after it, and in the midst of snapping at each other trying to fight for possession of, they rolled it farther away. And it hit someone's bloodied, torn up foot.

Walkers!

I jumped up and slammed the trunk shut and whistled for my dogs.

"Shasta! Zep! Winchester! Come on!" I opened one of the back doors and they all jumped into action. Only, not the actions I wanted.

Zepplin growled and started foaming at the mouth. Chester barked and circled the walker. Shasta…Shasta tried to get the ball!

"Shasta, no!" I screamed in my "alpha" voice.

The walker snarled and reached for Shasta, but I moved without thinking and raced forward, kicking the walker down. It landed with a nasty sounding thud.

Suddenly, more walkers turned around the corner from behind me.

Winchester went to do his famous "Lead the Walkers Away!" trick, but I grabbed his collar and dragged him to the car.

Walkers closed in on either side, and I had just enough time to grab my faithful hiking bag and my forest green book bag, and most importantly, my picture of Rick.

"Run!" I ordered the dogs, and we did just that.

We ran. And ran. And ran. And ran.

We ran until we were gasping for air, but even then we ran.

We ran until I swear I felt the rocky asphalt below my through the soles of my leather boots.

We ran until there was a trail of blood from my poor dogs' paws.

We ran until I had tripped and fallen and rolled down a hill.

Shasta wasted no time contemplating over whether or not to follow me; he just jumped and slid down the hill.

Zepplin and Winchester followed suit.

The walkers looked down the hill and one daring man-walker took a step and slid down right next to my worn body.

It snapped at me and went to grab me but Zep jumped on its back, Shasta leapt on its arm, and Chester nipped my ear and pulled it as if saying "Come on!"

I couldn't though.

I tried to run, but I fell again, and again, and again.

We ran for another five minutes before we hit a train track.

Zeppelin ran ahead and Shasta nudged me to follow, which I did.

I ran the train track until I found the most glorious, most amazing, most magnificent thing in the world.

A prison!

Yeah that sounds a little weird, but it was what I saw in the prison that made me slide down a pebbly mound.

It was what was it in that made me wade through icy water.

It was what was in it that made me sprint with a newfound joy to the chain linked fence.

It was a family.

"Help! Help! Please!" I shook the fence.

A rugged man with a crossbow looked up at me and his blue eyes widened.

"Who are you!" he snapped pointed his crossbow at me.

Zepplin growled and stood in front of me.

"Easy boy." I murmured.

"Listen, there are walkers after me. I just ran for miles and miles and I seriously need somewhere to stay. Somewhere where I won't get torn to pieces! Please let me in!" I pleaded.

"We don't let outsiders in." he said simply.

"Oh, dude, please! Do I look that intimidating? I'm probably the skinniest guy you've ever seen right?! Let me in!" I cried feeling tears drip down my face.

"No."

I didn't have to even turn around to know that walkers were headed towards me.

"Then take my dogs…" I whispered hoarsely. "Don't let get hurt…"

He thought about it.

"Deal. Back away from the fence. You try anything, and I'll shoot the dogs." He growled.

I helped him drag my reluctant pups into the opening in the fence that he started threading a cable through.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my picture of Rick.

"Sorry, Rick. I wanted to stay alive…I wanted to fight my way through this like I know you would've. I love you, big brother…" I cried.

Just then, the man gasped and grabbed my arm, dragging me into safety.

Stunned, I sat back and watched him weave the dull red cord through the enclosure.

Walkers slammed their bodies into the fence and made grabs at us.

"Well whatcha sitting there for? Get up!" and he gripped my arm and dragged me through another opening which led to a huge open grassy area.

Pulling me over to a watch tower, he pushed me face first into the bricks and tied my hands behind my back and then another rope around my neck. He secured me to the fence and said, "I'll beat your scrawny ass if you try anything, ya hear, boy! I'm going to get the others."

"Okay…" I whispered.

He began to walk away.

"Wait!" I yelled. After hearing him stop I stuttered out, "Thank you for not letting me die…"

He snorted and walked away, "I shoulda left ya."

Gee thanks.

I swear I waited for at least an hour.

Shasta was sleeping, Zepplin was scratching his ear, and Winchester was eating grass…all bored.

"There he is." The same guy from earlier said.

I heard gasps and then a few girls squealed and raced forward.

"Daryl! He's not an animal!" an older lady with extremely short hair snapped at 'Daryl'.

"Maggie cut the ropes!" a younger voice exclaimed and 'Maggie' cut me free.

"Oh cool, look at the dogs!" a younger boy said.

I gasped, that younger boy looked like…Carl!

"Carl?" I asked. He jumped back with an uncertain look in his eyes.

"How do you know my name?"

"Well, I mean-." He wouldn't know me. Hell, I wouldn't know him if it hadn't been for pictures.

"Daryl, why did you say you saved him?" Maggie asked.

"Because the whelp started crying and apologizing to his, I'm assuming, dead brother about how he tried to stay alive for him."

"That doesn't explain why you saved him." The older short haired lady said.

"Well he said his brother's name was Rick." Daryl said, pulling out my picture.

"Hey that's mine!" I jumped for it, but he pulled it out of reach.

Damn my inability to get taller!

An old man in crutches came up from behind Daryl and said, "That's Rick!"

"Yeah, I know! That's why I brought him here. I think this pup might be Rick's baby brother." Daryl grouched.

"Hey, hey, they're the pups! Not me!" I pointed at my dogs that sat obediently at my side.

"Fine. Then you're a cub." Daryl smirked.

"Where's Rick now?" a young blonde girl asked as she cradled a baby in her skinny arms.

"With Glenn," Maggie said, "I think they were going to get more food and water from the cafeteria."

"Wait, Rick's here?" I asked, "Nuh uh, not possible! He died in a coma!"

Something wasn't right here.

Rick was dead! Not with "Glenn" getting food and water!

I must be hearing things! And…seeing things!

That isn't Rick walking up to us with an Asian guy.

That isn't Rick asking what's going on.

Huh, I wish I knew what was going on.

This tunnel vision needs to go away!

No, that's not Rick staring at me in disbelief.

I swear I didn't just faint!

"A.K.? My…baby brother?"

**Holy crap I had fun writing that!**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**R&R!**

**Thank youuuuu!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Um, almost a year later? I suck!**

**Okay well, I'm going to try and continue this!**

***Insert Disclaimer Here***

**Enjoy…almost a year later, god… *slaps myself***

_**A.K.'S POINT OF VIEW**_

"A.K., wake up!" I groaned.

"Five more minutes…"

"A.K., wake up, now."

"No, I have a head ache."

"Yeah, most likely from dehydration and overworking yourself, kiddo. If you get your scrawny butt up I can give you water."

Then, it clicked.

I was dead!

Dead! Dead! Dead!

Do you want to know how I know? This is Rick talking! _Rick_! And Rick is dead!

"Heaven sucks if you still get headaches…or is this hell? I only had sex with Amanda Willinson once; does that automatically make you hell sent? Life is fucking stupid, then…"

I heard a man burst into laughter and then say, "The pup is crazy, Rick, he's completely bonkers."

"I should have known a redneck would be in hell. Isn't that where they all go?" I growled.

"Says the boy with hair down to his ass! Speaking of asses, yours is about to get handed to ya!"

"Fuck you, my ass is sexy…just like my hair." I snapped back, my eyes still closed, "And what does my long, beautiful, luscious hair have to do with being stuck in hell with a cracker ass redneck?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to say it. Who are you to talk about my cracker ass when yours is hanging out like that, you slut! I think I see the handprint Amanda Willinson left."

Reaching behind me, I dropped my hand to my very bare ass with a loud smack, "Ow."

I wiggled it and said, "Uh that's your mom's handprint."

"A.K. enough." I heard the man that sounded like Rick say in a stern voice that sounded a lot like Rick's "dad voice" I heard countless times when I was younger.

"He started it! The fag probably raped me!" I shouted, holding up my middle finger and waving it around, "This is to the rapist…I'll be seeing you in hell, cock sucker!"

"A.K.! Open your eyes!"

I whined, but complied.

Slowly opening my eyes, I blinked a few times before looking around.

"You aren't dead, or in hell." I turned to look at the man who said that.

Rick.

The real Rick.

I closed my eyes again to stop tears from falling, "I just want to lay here and argue with the rapist red neck some more."

"A.K., get up! Now! I'm not joking anymore!" Rick grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.

A real hug…

No, I wasn't dead, and Rick wasn't either, I guess.

I hugged back and cried into Rick's shoulder.

"I though you died! Where the fuck were you? You left me with a bunch of undead freaks and I didn't know what to do…" I was bawling my eyes out and twisting fistfuls of Rick's shirt, "I just want to beat the shit out of you and…fuck you, Rick!" I coughed, "I don't mean actually fuck you…ugh! You know what I mean!"

He laughed and patted my back.

"Why didn't you leave with Shane? He took Carl and Lori; he could've taken you too."

"I didn't know where he was! I went to your house and everyone was gone…and I panicked. I took Winchester and stole dad's Explorer and bailed. When I heard Atlanta was safe, I tried to go there, but it couldn't get there with all the crazy walkers everywhere and people going bat shit crazy. I went another way, through a really shady town, and it was infested! I found my dogs along the way and felt a little safer with them and not so lonely, so I traveled back home…or at least in that direction. I've been going in circles, Rick. I didn't know what to do! Mom and dad…mom and dad…" I cried fresh tears, "And Amanda, and Levi, and Christina, and everyone was gone! You were dead and Shane was gone and…"

I stopped talking to catch my breath and stop crying, "And I just wanted to die. But, I kept thinking of you and how I wanted to be like you. I knew you wouldn't just quit, you'd persevere and you'd stick it out until the end. That was my last tribute to you: be like Rick and make him proud."

There was a long pause.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that A.K.," Rick's voice was thick with tears, "I love you, baby brother, and I'm not leaving you. Ever."

He hugged me to his chest again.

"Okay, I think this is sweet and all, but I'm tired of staring at pasty white ass cheeks, so Pup, get some pants on, for Christ's sake."

"Fuck you, I'm trying to have a moment with my long lost brother, can you just keep your damn mouth shut?" I growled, "And who the fuck are you anyway?"

"Names Daryl Dixon," the redneck said.

Dixon?

I pulled away from Rick and looked at Daryl Dixon, "Do you know Merle? Merle Dixon?"

Daryl's eye got huge, "You know Merle?"

"Yeah, he saved my life a few weeks ago. He was like "I ain't savin you ass again, kid, so watch out for yourself" then he left. Is he missing a hand?"

"Merle's alive? No fucking way! Yes he's missing a hand!"

"Are you two sure you're talking about the same Merle?" Rick asked, giving me a questioning look.

"Uh, how many one handed Merle's are left in the world?" I asked, snorting, "He's a crazy motherfucker."

"Definitely the same Merle…" Daryl grunted, "Now seriously, Pup, get some fuckin clothes on, ya whore."

"Don't hate on the dick…he's sensitive…" I whispered, slowly petting my dick.

"You're really gonna do this…now?" some Asian guy walked in, taking one look at me and then walking out. I heard him yell, "Hershel needs you, Rick,"

"A.K. put it away. I have to go. Watch out for him, Daryl." Rick threw some skinny jeans at me and walked out.

"Yes, Dare Bear, watch out for me." I snorted, tugging on the jeans, "Where are my dogs?"

"Outside with Carl, come on." I followed him out of the prison and to the outside world.

"How long have I been out?"

"About two days. Hershel fixed you up and Maggie and Beth cleaned you up. We fed your dogs too, by the way, and we made sure their paws were wrapped up. You need to take better care of them."

"Don't question my dog abilities, bro! We were being chased by walkers for miles…give me a break. Speaking of that, is there any way I could borrow a car or something? I just need a ride back to my Hummer-it has all my things in it."

"I don't know; ya have to ask Rick. I think Maggie and Glenn are going on a run for Judith anyway, so you might be able to."

"Okay, sorry, but I don't know most of these people. And where's Lori and Shane? I didn't see them earlier."

Daryl got really quiet.

"Lori got pregnant and died during childbirth…Judith is the baby. Shane…was killed."

"What the fuck? When did all this shit happen? Holy balls…Lori is dead? How's Rick taking it?"

"Talk to Rick about that."

I have to talk to Rick about a lot of things, like how in God's name is he alive?

After telling Daryl I'd catch up with him later, I went of the Carl who was throwing a ball and laughing when the dogs fought for who would get it.

"Hey Carl." I plopped down in the grass.

"How do you know who I am?" how rude! He didn't even look at me.

"Uh, because we're related?"

He froze and turned to me, "What?"

"Yeah, I'm your crazy, teenage uncle…Rick never mentioned me?"

Carl shook his head.

"Well your dad's an asshole; anyway, I just wanted to finally meet you. How do you like the dogs?"

Carl laughed and said they were great, but that was the end of the conversation.

Once the dogs caught sight of me, they rushed over and tackled me with licks and playful nips.

"Oh, you guys are the best!" I wrestled with them for what seemed like hours before an old, one legged man called me.

I looked up and jogged over, "What's up?"

"You shouldn't be out here horsing around, you're still healing." He scolded, "Get back inside and on that bed before you tear stitches."

"You must be Hershel! Thanks for patching me up, but I'm fine! Really! I didn't even know I had stitches!" I laughed, "Thanks again, man."

I turned to race back to my dogs, but a very familiar voice called after me, "A.K., if Hershel says get back in bed then you get back in bed."

"Rick! I'm fine!" I groaned, spinning back around and crossing my arms over my chest, "I wanna play with the dogs!"

"This is not up for discussion, boy, you get back in bed or else…"

"Or else what?" I smirked, "You'll ground me?"

Within seconds, I was thrown over Rick's shoulder, pushed into bed, and had the cell doors close, locking me in. Grounded…

"Hey, you can't do this anymore! This is a different world! I'm my only boss!" I tried to sound firm and commanding, but it just turned into a whine that made me sound like a five year old.

Fuck!

**XXX**

**This chapter was weird…and was primarily dialogue, I know, I know! I'm sorry! I updated 3 different stories today and my brain was messed up. I tried to make this one funny (sorry if I failed) and give A.K. a personality because, really, no one knew how he acted around people because from the start he's been around walkers (in this story I mean)**

**Oh and I'm sorry it was so short :(**

**Read and review and thanks so much for stopping by! Have a beautiful day and remember to smile, my pretties! **


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